OAK HILL PARK — Four teenagers and one extremely large, extremely hungry dog arrived at the park gate in a green van shortly after midnight, having heard the grounds were haunted. The park had closed at dusk. They climbed the gate anyway.
They were right about the haunting. They were wrong about the culprit. For forty minutes they searched for a man in a mask, and they found the groundskeeper, who has worked the park for nineteen years and was only there to check the sprinklers. They pulled at her face. It came off no more than faces normally do. “That is just her face,” said the Proprietor, observing from the tree line.
At 12:41 a.m., the Park Ranger Phantom enforced the posted closing time. At 12:43, the groundskeeper (an employee, and mildly offended) was thanked for her patience and sent to the shed with a thermos. At 12:44, the teenagers were asked to leave. They did so at speed, leaving behind a flashlight, a clipboard, and a sandwich. The dog tried to take the sandwich with it. The sandwich stayed.
The groundskeeper has since asked whether the Park Ranger Phantom might join her on her sprinkler rounds. The Phantom has agreed.
Every member of our night shift is exactly who they appear to be. We do not wear costumes, run wires, or fog the lawn. A haunting is a service, not a scheme.